


Psychological High

by errantgrit



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Consent, F/M, Fluff, Male G-Spot, Orgasm Control, Oswin - Freeform, Sherlock - Freeform, Trust Kink, clara - Freeform, holmes - Freeform, oswald - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 12:48:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5744431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/errantgrit/pseuds/errantgrit





	Psychological High

He undresses in front of her, after making it clear he doesn't require her to become undressed, and she looks over his form, finding it very pleasurable and knowing what level of trust this implies. He looks at her, his lips a little tight and the smallest line creasing the center of his brow. "Ready?" he asks. "Ready." She says, thinking how pitiful that subtle look on his face made him seem. He turns and sits on the bed, positioning the pillows behind his back as Clara approaches, then after a small hesitation and a trepidous look in her direction, he slowly leans back and draws his knees up. She watches this, feeling the heat rise in her neck and face, her eyes going wide as she gulps. Sherlock rolls his eyes a bit at this, and shifts his weight as she sits on the bed near his legs, setting aside the glove and lube. They take a moment, just looking into each other's eyes, before Clara states, "You talk to me, alright? I want to know how I'm doing." "Oh, you'll know. Don't worry." He says, as she reaches forward and starts smoothing her hands around his hips, circling towards his genitals and around and down towards his buttock, then back up and around, slowly working the areas to ease as he adjusted to her touch. His lips parted as she worked, his jaw slacking just slightly as he watched her, his breath coming out hot and deep as his chest began to move with her, breathing in her motions. Arousal and relaxation came easily under her touch, his trust in her causing him ease in his muscles, though such a strange and new thing would come next.  
  
Clara moved carefully, regarding him with respect and gentleness so that he would have no cause to fear. Her motions deliberate and easing, she moved her hands into the muscles of his underside and gradually pressed and massaged, watching his glans twitch and swell, a shuddering breath escaping his lips making her roil in her loins as she steadfastly continued. Soon he was very relaxed, and their eyes met, a question in hers, and he looked softly into her and nodded. She nodded in return and removed her hands to put on the glove and adorn it with lube. Sherlock shifted, a palpitation of thrill moving his heart as she prepared her fingers for him. She looked to him once more for certainty, and he was ready, focused in anticipation on the area he could not see. He felt the cold as she wetted his anus with the lube, and he felt the muscles tense up there again as he reminded himself to calm. Clara ceremonially circled the area, never probing, simply massaging his opening with her wet fingers and circling the muscles to encourage them to relax again. Her other hand worked the surrounding areas, easing his tensions as he fought to encourage trust, knowing she would never hurt him, never put him somewhere he wouldn't want to be. At this thought, an emotion he didn't recognize filled his heart and warmed through him at a surprising pace, making him loose a brief whimper. Her head shot up, a look of concern with her brows furrowed and that small pout. "Are you--?" She began. "I'm fine." he cut her off softly, and his eyes met hers, swimming with emotion that Clara had never seen before. Taken by the look and the trust it implied, she blushed deeply and her lips parted as she resumed her ministrations. A deep reaction moving in his eye before he looked away made the heat shoot through her. His breathing deepened as she pressed and circled the pad of her finger against his opening, when to both of their surprise the opening gave way and the muscles there pulled her finger in. The moment was powerful and humbling for Clara, as she looked at Sherlock who had gone so soft and gentle under the things she had done to him. Though he did not feel his limbs shaking, a deep tremor was rattling him from the inside as he took in the sensation of her finger inside some place he had never let anyone be. A fierce fire built up in him, and he couldn't tell if it was excitement or fear, and as he fought to quell or release it he looked into Clara's eyes and she knew, and reminded him, "You're in control, Sherlock. This is all about you. Any instant, you tell me to and I'll stop. You tell me to keep going, and I'll keep going." The steadfast earnestness in her eyes reassured him, and he immediately felt more calm.  
  
They took a moment so that he could adjust to the sensation, the fire in his belly definitely turning towards excitement and anticipation, and after a while he encouraged her to continue. His muscles relented as she slid in a little more, the sliding sensation strangely thrilling and deep, confusing and fascinating. She crooked her finger a little and wandered the pad around the wall of his rectum, causing a mixture of "full" sensations, warming and intense pleasures both towards his genitals and through his innards, traveling all around his body. Little gasps escaped as she explored that round bump two inches from the entrance, and he felt overwhelmed with new emotions. "I think I found your prostate." She offered, and he grinned in the obvious certainty of it on his end. "Yes, I think you did," he replied, "Can you find the root of my penis?" He inquired, a little fire in his eye. She returned the fire, and slid a little bit out, causing the thrilling sensation again, only this time it was warming on his loins. She pondered over the area causing a rise in him and a small moan. "Oh, that's it." He breathed, and she giggled at his enjoyment. She moved over the area a little before sliding in a little deeper to ponder over his prostate, and the changeover was such a motion in him, the thrilling and warming and deep pressure, the sudden build of orgasmic pleasure and sudden decline as her finger moved around the space. He guttered and made a moaning shout in his submissive position as she wrought such pleasure on him. He sat in surprise, his whole body open and yielding to her, she with a powerful hunger growing in her eyes as she leveled him with a positively predatory look from under her brow. He felt like a lamb in the sights of a hungry wolf, but to his surprise she asked him, "Is it alright if I keep going?" Feeling a flutter of caring and affection in his heart, he nodded his approval, and the flutter soon turned over into a rush of gleeful helplessness and a fitful pique of desire as she grinned her wolfish grin.  
  
He truly felt as prey under her as she worked inside his flesh, setting about chain reactions to his insides that tossed him like an ocean as his captor kept him locked under her gaze, the look in her eye capsizing his will and luring him to the edge in rapid course. His arms moved above his head without being able to block out her gaze, his tremulous body giving away the rampant sensations moving through him as he began to shout, again, and again, until the whorling broke him away from all reality and his body was the only mind he had, pleasures marching into him like armies, each wave making love to his insides, coming into his lands and succumbing him to an onslaught of pleasure, pleasure, PLEASURE! When he thought there could be no more, when he thought she would finish him, there was another wave, each longer and higher than the last, submerging him deep into an ocean and surging through his insides in ways he didn't know he possessed a way to feel.  
  
Clara submitted him and felled him, knowing how to find all his deep enclosures and coax them into allowing her entrance. He was surprisingly defenseless below that first hard shell, and his depths opened easily to the outpouring of pleasure being generated. Never had she found someone so willing to allow her so deeply, and she explored with her heart for measures and ways that would spare him harm. Eagerly and with a strange level of purity, he allowed her into his insides, and she traversed his spaces with the spread of that arousal that would be quelled when she had finished with him.  
  
Deep, deep, deep she went, carrying on into him in ways that would have made him afraid if it had not felt so incredible, so completely wonderful. He was full of emotion as she went, feeling all manner of things bubble up and discorporate in the tides of whole, healthy surgings moving through him. He distantly noted that his eyes had tears, though he was smiling, and he couldn't care for the bliss he felt.  
  
Soon she reached her true goal, which was the much-guarded core of him: his heart. He felt her near it, and a burst of fear moved through him at her proximity, though it was swiftly washed away. She whispered aloud to him, "Okay, almost there, Sherlock, just trust me." Trust her. Trust her. He did, he trusted her. His mind flew with what all that cherished abandonment could do if it reached his heart, every fear and hope and desire as the pleasures washed and washed through him. She entreated upon his deepest area, lapping the sexual motions against its doors, surrounding it and moving against it with enticing measures, such that Sherlock could barely resist. When she knew it was time, she ebbed her advances and entreated gently against the door, warming it with her heart and imploring it to open. With Great Shuddering Emotion and the feeling of a grand gate being pried open, he allowed his heart to be opened, the heavy shell giving way to the waves surrounding it. The light and motion and undulating, lustful mountings in him rushed at his heart, and the sensations at once increased tenfold and burst throughout his being, showering him with light and movement, causing his body to rise sharply with a shocked and indulgent gasp, then immediately fall back and succumb in fullness.  
  
In the peak of it, Clara began moving him to climax, his new richness filling him more and more to his peak, his heart feeling free and fearless and beyond any words that he could have believed, his body ceasing to exist as he was wrought to perfection in his zenith; the ultimate bearing him up, and gravity having no meaning. He was surrounded by the all, and nothing and everything was there, all filling him and moving through his newly opened spaces, invading yet innate. Moving and coursing and climbing and climbing and ... !  
  
He screamed; a pleasure-filled scream that made light seem to spill from his every cell as the pleasure seeded every mote of his being with sexual life. The excess spilled out of him as she worked the last of the surge through him, and he collapsed back down, a limp, spent, glowing human. His breathing was heavy for a moment or so after the collapse, his eyes peering through heavy lids as the fatigue began to settle in, and Clara gently removed her hand from him. She gently curled him against her so that she could adjust his pillows, and he inhaled her scent, so very sweet and complex, her embrace so gentle and loving that he swelled in contentment. He wished to embrace her, hold her close, but the fatigue came on strong and he could only recline as she released him onto the bed, and covered him with a sheet. She kissed his cheek, and before she could retreat he whispered her name, touching her head to tiredly pull her in to his lips. He tasted warm, free, and positively intoxicating. She tasted like the power of the sun, like the wind blowing the aroma of wild flowers into your senses, and he could only tremulously imbibe her for a moment or so before the last of his energy left him, and he fell back. She chuckled, touching his face and his hair, before gently taking her leave so he could pass into sleep.


End file.
